


You're the Hallelujah On My Throne

by vostara



Series: She Drowns in Liquid Gold [2]
Category: John Wick (Comics), John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, fluff with a bit of spice tossed in really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vostara/pseuds/vostara
Summary: A one-shot that takes place after Hypnophobia, but can be read by itself.Since this was written before the completion of that series, it does not contain any clear spoilers of the series conclusion.Ares x Original Female Character (Beatrix)
Relationships: Ares (John Wick)/Beatrix Amsler, Ares (John Wick)/Female Reader, Ares (John Wick)/Original Character(s), Ares (John Wick)/Original Female Character(s), Ares (John Wick)/Reader
Series: She Drowns in Liquid Gold [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776829
Kudos: 5





	You're the Hallelujah On My Throne

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place in the future, but i omitted any details that would reveal what exactly is happening (outside of the relationship between ares and beatrix).
> 
> i wrote this because i was impatient for some soft assassins tbh.

She awakens with the sensation of fingertips gliding along the bare skin of pale arms. And she smiles, embracing the comfort, etching the touch into her memory. Clinging to the last threads of unconscious dozing, she barely emits a longing whine when the the contact of flesh is broken. Beatrix buries her face into the ruby satin of the pillowcase. When she inhales, she breathes in the faint scent of leather, the lingering traces of her lover’s cologne.

A body inches closer, to press their chest against her naked back. They wrap an arm around her waist and nuzzle their nose against the back of her neck.

Further removing herself from the state of slumber, her brain turns on the gears, starts the process of comprehending her surroundings. She begins to register the sound of raindrops, splattering against the glass of their secluded bedroom. Exposed skin is chilled from a breeze that slips between the space provided by windows left slightly ajar. And the body behind her, the woman behind her, is stained with the scent of the jasmine perfume that Beatrix had worn the night before.

Full lips are pressed against her skin. They brush along her neck, before migrating down to her shoulder blade. Beatrix moans when she feels teeth sink into her, scratching playful markings on top of her lotus tattoo.

“Ares,” she whispers, a pleading noise escaping her lips.

The woman smiles into her skin. And then she pulls her lips away, pulls her body away.

And Beatrix panics.

She turns her body on the bed and latches onto Ares, pulling her flush against her body. She needs to feel her, to know that she’s there, that Ares is real, and that the heartbeat that she feels isn’t a fantasy that bleed from her slumber and into her reality.

Ares places a comforting hand against the woman’s back, rubbing a thumb against her. With her free hand, she brushes strands of long hair away from Beatrix’s face. She raises her head to press a gentle kiss on the woman’s forehead.

Beatrix relaxes.

She opens her eyes, blinking away the blurriness that lingers after a deep slumber. Through the window, she sees a single ray of sunlight, breaking through the expanse of gray clouds. The light illuminates the lavender flowers planted outside, on the windowsill. Then she shifts her eyes to where the warmth radiates. And she focuses on the familiar tattoos inked onto a thin arm and the heartbeat embedded into the side of a neck.

Beatrix lays the side of her face against the flat space of her lover’s shoulder. “You’re here,” she mumbles.

Ares trails her fingers against the woman’s back, tracing the outlines of a freshly healed tattoo. Though her lips are graced with a soft smile, her eyes are tinged with concern.

The couple lay together, for awhile longer, their limbs intertwined. Ares runs her fingers through the woman’s hair, untangling knots that had formed in the midst of passion exchanged. Beatrix breathes in the scent of her lover’s skin, further grounding herself into this reality.

When Ares is certain that Beatrix has calmed down, she pulls her arms away. She moves them to grip the woman’s hips, urging Beatrix to move her body.

Without hesitation, Beatrix obliges. She climbs on top of Ares and straddles her hips between her legs. Eager, she presses herself against the woman beneath her and leans down to kiss her.

But Ares stops her.

Planting a hand firmly against her chest, she pushes Beatrix to sit upright. She takes a moment to examine the woman, observing her barely open eyes, her swollen lips, and the fading lipstick smeared against her skin.

She lifts her hands, bringing them to the space between the women. _Are you okay?_ She signs.

Beatrix blinks and then shifts her gaze to look away from Ares. She opens her mouth to speak, but pauses. “For a moment,” she finally says, “I thought you were going to disappear.”

Ares presses a hand against her cheek, turning her head back towards her.

 _I’m right here_ , she says. _I’m not leaving you._

Beatrix smiles. She leans down and meets Ares in series of sweet, gentle kisses.

The buzz of a phone interrupts them.

Beatrix pulls away, sighing. She reaches for the black cellphone resting on the bedside table and frowns. A notification flashes across the screen, a message from Santino D’Antonio.

Ares slips the phone out of the woman’s fingers, turning it so she can see the screen.

“Ignore him,” Beatrix says.

Ares smiles, but unlocks the phone. She reads the message, before dropping the phone onto the bed.

_He needs to see you._

“He can wait,” Beatrix responds.

Ares lifts an eyebrow. _He says that it is important._

Beatrix rolls her. “He’s a big boy,” she rests her chest against Ares, “he should learn some patience.”

Ares quirks her mouth in amusement, before pulling Beatrix into another kiss. She flips them over, trapping the woman between her and the mattress.

Beatrix presses her thighs against her hips, wanting to feel all of her lover.

Ares nibbles against the bottom of Beatrix’s lips, urging her to whisper a soft moan in response. Seizing the opportunity, Ares slips her tongue between the parted lips, deepening the lust blooming between the women.

Beatrix digs her nails into the woman’s back, marking the skin with fresh scratches.

Ares pulls her lips away from Beatrix, choosing to pepper kisses along the woman’s jawline. She then presses her lip onto the woman’s neck, sinking her teeth into the delicate skin. A few moments later, she continues to trail her lips down the woman’s body. She travels across her collarbones, the space between her breasts, and along the scars etched onto her stomach.

Beatrix tangles her fingers into the woman’s short hair, impatient and desperate for Ares. Unintelligible pleas escaping from her lips.

Ares dips her head between the spread legs and—

The phone rings, screaming its godawful noise into the room.

Ares freezes, before pulling her face away from Beatrix. She reaches for the cellphone and accepts the call. The woman holds the phone up to her ear for a moment, and then passes it to the other woman.

“What do you want?” Beatrix hisses.

“Ahh,” the man responds, “a good morning to you, too.”

“Santino, get on with it.” A warning.

“The Germans have a proposal.” The man sighs. “I need you to show up for a meeting.”

Movement from the corner of her eye draws her attention. She watches as Ares untangles her limbs from the bedsheets and leaves the comfort of the fabric. She picks up a burgundy shirt from the floor, the same one Beatrix had torn off of her last night, and slips her arms inside of the sleeves. A moment later, she exits the bedroom.

“Answer me,” Santino’s voice pulls her attention back to the call.

“Which Germans are you talking about?” She questions. “Did they mention anything about what they wanted?”

“Matthias,” the Camorra man pauses, “is requesting your presence.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

Santino chuckles. “That might break his heart. He seems to be quite enchanted by you.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Did he mention anything else?”

“Lilith.”

Beatrix frowns. “But Lilith is—”

The man interrupts her, “Actions can lead to unexpected conflicts.” A pause. “He says that he can make it, ‘go away.’”

Silence follows, as she processes the information.

“Beatrix?”

“When does he want to meet?”

“This evening, for a late dinner.”

“I will be there,” the woman responds. She ends the call and tosses the phone back onto the bedside table.

Ares walks back into the bedroom, dressed in a clean black buttoned shirt and a pair of navy blue tapered slacks. She pauses in her steps, her eyes focused on Beatrix.

_You’re upset._

Beatrix nods her head in response.

_What did he say?_

“That Matthias has a proposal for me.” Wrapping herself in the bedsheet, Beatrix stands up from the bed and approaches Ares. “It has something to do with Lilith.”

Ares furrows her brows. _She is gone._

“It would appear that my actions resulted in,” Beatrix takes a moment to consider her words, “a rippling effect of consequences.”

Ares frowns and her eyes drift down to stare at the dark wooden floors.

“I should have known better,” Beatrix says. “Lilith’s poison contaminates all of Germany. There is no freedom from my people.”

Ares takes a step towards her, determination painted in her features. She reaches for Beatrix’s hand and pulls it towards her, placing it on her chest. Her thumb traces against the edges of an emerald, cut in a pear shape and attached to a simple gold band.

Ares removes her hold on the hand, allowing her to shape her next words. _I vowed to protect you. And I intend to keep that promise._

Beatrix blinks, surprised, but comforted. “Ares—”

_I will not allow harm to befall you. You do not need to ask me to fight with you, to fight for you. I will do so willingly, for as long as you wish that of me._

Beatrix lifts her hand, placing it against the side of Ares’ neck. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Ares smiles. _I love you._

The woman steps closer to her lover, pulling her into her arms. I love you, too,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this! if you enjoyed it, please like, comment, or leave a kudos. any little bit of support helps motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> twitter: VostaraFics  
> tumblr: Vostara


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